The Shakespearean Sonnet or English Sonnet consists of three quatrains (four-line stanzas), rhyming abab cdcd efef, and a couplet (a two-line stanza), rhyming gg. Because each new stanza introduces a new set of rhyming sounds, the Shakespearean sonnet is well-suited to English, which is less richly endowed than Italian with rhyming words. As with the structure of the Petrarchan sonnet, that of the Shakespearean sonnet influences the kinds of ideas that will be developed in it. For example, the three quatrains may be used to present three parallel images, with the couplet used to tie them together or to interpret their significance. Or the quatrains can offer three points in an argument, with the couplet serving to drive home the conclusion.
With the inauguration of the 17th century, Baroque attitudes swept through Europe; and in England, the period came under Samuel Johnson’s nomenclature Metaphysical Poetry. Sonnet 10, from John Donne’s Holy Sonnets, a powerful apostrophe to death, is an illustration of the rhetoric and tenor of the time.
Directions: Please read through the poems below. Compose a blog response commenting on the sonnets in some thoughtful way. You may be comparing and contrasting works, commenting on a particular poem that moved you, or examining a cross-section of works. NOTE: If you finished, please peruse Sonnet Central, and add to your post. You may cut and paste any sonnets you would likt to share with your comments.
Italian Sonnet
translated by Anthony Mortimer
The eyes I spoke of once in words that burn,
the arms and hands and feet and lovely face
that took me from myself for such a space
of time and marked me out from other men;
the waving hair of unmixed gold that shone,
the smile that flashed with the angelic rays
that used to make this earth a paradise,
are now a little dust, all feeling gone;
and yet I live, grief and disdain to me,
left where the light I cherished never shows,
in fragile bark on the tempestuous sea.
Here let my loving song come to a close;
the vein of my accustomed art is dry,
and this, my lyre, turned at last to tears.
Translation 2 (Notice the difference in sound and cadence)
The eyes I spoke of with such warmth,
The arms and hands and feet and face
Which took me away from myself
And marked me out from other people;
The waving hair of pure shining gold,
And the flash of her angelic smile,
Which used to make a paradise on earth,
Are a little dust, that feels nothing.
And yet I live, for which I grieve and despise myself,
Left without the light I loved so much,
In a great storm on an unprotected raft.
Here let there be an end to my loving song:
The vein of my accustomed invention has run dry,
And my lyre is turned to tears.
Original Italian (How is the form better suited to Italian)
Gli occhi di ch'io parlai sì caldamente,
et le braccia et le mani e i piedi e 'l viso,
che m'avean sì da me stesso diviso,
et fatto singular da l'altra gente;
le crespe chiome d'òr puro lucente
'l lampeggiar de l'angelico riso,
che solean fare in terra un paradiso,
poca polvere son, che nulla sente.
Et io pur vivo, onde mi doglio e sdegno,
rimaso senza 'l lume ch'amai tanto,
in gran fortuna e 'n disarmato legno.
Or sia qui fine al mio amoroso canto:
secca è la vena de l'usato ingegno,
et la cetera mia rivolta in pianto.
The English Sonnet
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me prov'd,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.
Metaphysical Poetry
"Sonnet 10" by John DonneDeath be not proud, though some have calléd thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more, Death thou shalt die.
Modern English Sonnet
"Sonnet 43" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints—I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
Harlem Renaissance
"America" by Claude McKayAlthough she feeds me bread of bitterness,
And sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth,
Stealing my breath of life, I will confess
I love this cultured hell that tests my youth!
Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,
Giving me strength erect against her hate.
Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood.
Yet as a rebel fronts a king in state,
I stand within her walls with not a shred
Of terror, malice, not a word of jeer.
Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,
And see her might and granite wonders there,
Beneath the touch of time’s unerring hand,
Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand.
Modernism
pity this busy monster, manunkind,
not. Progress is a comfortable disease:
your victim (death and life safely beyond)
plays with the bigness of his littleness
—electrons deify one razorblade
into a mountainrange; lenses extend
unwish through curving wherewhen till unwish
returns on its unself.
A world of made
is not a world of born—pity poor flesh
and trees, poor stars and stones, but never this
fine specimen of hypermagical
ultraomnipotence. We doctors know
a hopeless case if—listen: there’s a hell
of a good universe next door; let’s go.
Post Modernism
The notes like little fishes vanish with a wink of tails,
Man’s heart expands to tinker with his car
For this is Sunday morning, Fate’s great bazaar;
Regard these means as ends, concentrate on this Now,
And you may grow to music or drive beyond Hindhead anyhow,
Take corners on two wheels until you go so fast
That you can clutch a fringe or two of the windy past,
That you can abstract this day and make it to the week of time
A small eternity, a sonnet self-contained in rhyme.
But listen, up the road, something gulps, the church spire
Opens its eight bells out, skulls’ mouths which will not tire
To tell how there is no music or movement which secures
Escape from the weekday time. Which deadens and endures.
Dear God, Our Heavenly Father, Gracious Lord,
Mother Love and Maker, Light Divine,
Atomic Fingertip, Cosmic Design,
First Letter of the Alphabet, Last Word,
Mutual Satisfaction, Cash Award,
Auditor Who Approves Our Bottom Line,
Examiner Who Says That We Are Fine,
Oasis That All Sands Are Running Toward.
I can say almost anything about you,
O Big Idea, and with each epithet,
Create new reasons to believe or doubt you,
Black Hole, White Hole, Presidential Jet.
But what’s the anything I must leave out? You
Solve nothing but the problems that I set.
"God’s Secretary" by R.S. Gwynn
Her e-mail inbox always overflows.
Her outbox doesn’t get much use at all.
She puts on hold the umpteen-billionth call
As music oozes forth to placate those
Who wait, then disconnect. Outside, wind blows,
Scything pale leaves. She sees a sparrow fall
Fluttering to a claw-catch on a wall.
Will He be in today? God only knows.
She hasn’t seen His face—He’s so aloof.
She’s long resigned He’ll never know or love her
But still can wish there were some call, some proof
That He requires a greater service of her.
Fingers of rain now drum upon the roof,
Coming from somewhere, somewhere far above her.
Her e-mail inbox always overflows.
Her outbox doesn’t get much use at all.
She puts on hold the umpteen-billionth call
As music oozes forth to placate those
Who wait, then disconnect. Outside, wind blows,
Scything pale leaves. She sees a sparrow fall
Fluttering to a claw-catch on a wall.
Will He be in today? God only knows.
She hasn’t seen His face—He’s so aloof.
She’s long resigned He’ll never know or love her
But still can wish there were some call, some proof
That He requires a greater service of her.
Fingers of rain now drum upon the roof,
Coming from somewhere, somewhere far above her.
With a first line taken from the tv listings
A man is haunted by his father’s ghost.
Boy meets girl while feuding families fight.
A Scottish king is murdered by his host.
Two couples get lost on a summer night.
A hunchback murders all who block his way.
A ruler’s rivals plot against his life.
A fat man and a prince make rebels pay.
A noble Moor has doubts about his wife.
An English king decides to conquer France.
A duke learns that his best friend is a she.
A forest sets the scene for this romance.
An old man and his daughters disagree.
A Roman leader makes a big mistake.
A sexy queen is bitten by a snake.
Millennial Poems
“Lines Composed on April 23, 2016, on the 400th Anniversary of His Death” by Wilude Scabere
Shall I compare his language to a grave?
It is more lively and more flowery.
His rough-shook words refuse to be death’s slave.
No tomb’s as showy or so showery.
A sepulchre, though hard as rock, erodes,
and shrines do often lose their lustre’s prime,
while monuments, though nice, make poor abodes,
and sadly catacombs decay in time.
But Shakespeare’s language will not go away.
Unceasingly, his lines play in the mind.
They pop up even on a summer’s day.
Unlike a crypt, they will not stay behind.
Alas, poor Oracle, his song goes on,
despite all efforts of oblivion.
“A Hero” by Evan Mantyk
(Note: Zhen-Shan-Ren, Truth, Compassion and Tolerance, are the three main principles of the spiritual practice Falun Gong, which, along with Christianity, is persecuted in China)
These are the weathered shoes worn by the Jew,
So cracked from all the miles walked since he fled.
These are the slave’s strong legs like trunks that grew
And worked so hard until he’s beaten dead.
This is the heart of Christians who’re hemmed in
by beasts, while Romans laugh at them and yell.
These poisoned lips of Socrates destined
To die, and yet in virtue ever dwell.
This banner is the shield of Spartan men
Outnumbered by a thousand foes to one;
Its moral words in Chinese, Zhen-Shan-Ren,
Are spears of truth that no one can outrun.
The Falun Gong man now before you stands,
A hero for all times and for all lands.
ReplyDeleteOne of my favorite musical artists, probably of my life, is a singer/songwriter called Bedouine. It is a play on the word “Bedouin”, the Arab nomadic peoples, who traveled with the herds of animals which they cultivated. I learned yesterday in Modern Middle East class that the Bedoiun wrote short poems of a few lines. For example,
“And verily, as to the folly of an old man,
There is no wisdom after it,
But the young man after his folly may become wise”
Just like sonnets, these were meant to be shared out loud. They would chant them to remember so they could be passed down through generations. They were thought not of as an art form, but as a tool for survival. The songs of Bedione that have been stuck in my head for the past three months share deep connections both with the chants of the Arab Bedione and the sonnets. The lines of her song “Bird” could be performed as a sonnet:
And bird, if your wings have gone clipped
“As I pressed myself to your lips
I'll release you
With what is left of your wings
I will leave you to sing
I will leave you to sing
And bird, if love went awry
Each time I looked too deep in your eyes
I'll look away so that you can fly away
I'll even lead you astray
I will lead you astray
I will lead you astray”
All three: the Bedoine chants, Bedouins lyrics, and sonnets have fascinatingly clever couplets of lines. I think is my favorite sonnet was “America” by Claude McKay. The most smart and accurate two lines are:
“Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,
Giving me strength erect against her hate”
It perfectly encapsulates how this nation offers hope in just the right dose so that the level of despair nips on its heels up but never quite catches up. It says it in very few words, a gift that would be impossible in prose. This reminds of the couplet in the Bedoine song:
“If it's true that I feel
More for you than you do for me”
This sentiment has been fleeting from writers for what feels like forever. So many stories attempt to articulate the despair that comes from rejection, invisibility, disappointment. But it all boils down to this: caring more than someone else does. Sonnets have the power to do this, to simplify and condense, to really get to the heart of an emotion.
Even by using by using metaphors and symbols, sonnets can achieve precision of emotion. McKay takes advantage of this when describing America with lines like “Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood” and “like priceless treasures sinking in the sand.” In the same way that fiction can be truer than truth, animals and nature can act more human than we can. By describing ourselves in these terms we make our audience aware of our sentiment. In her song, “Bird”, Bedoine depicts human nature with nature in the same way:
Waves will roll in and melt back out
I anchored you, but in the drought
Am I to you, some sort of chain?
Are you a bird? Am I your cage?
Am I a bar breaking under notes you play?
Bedouine’s lyrical fluidity is I think what draws me to her music, which could also be performed as sonnets. I hope that this same attraction continues to deepen my understanding of sonnets.
I was initially drawn to Claude McKay’s “America” because it was part of the Harlem Renaissance which is fresh on my mind after reading “Sonny’s Blues.” Like Baldwin’s work, the concepts presented in this sonnet are extremely relevant today which demonstrates the connection between the present and the past. “America” follows a traditional English sonnet structure with a ABABCDCDEFEFGG pattern that gives the work a very clear rhythm. One line that particularly stuck out to me was “I love this cultured hell that tests my youth!” This hits very close to home as I’m sure many adolescents can relate to with the state of society in the 2019 America. We constantly have to balance the freedom of youth with the harsh realities that loom over our present and future. I also found the line “Beneath the touch of time’s unerring hand, like priceless treasures sinking in the sand” to be very interesting as well. I found this to enforce the idea that everything happens for a reason by claiming that time’s “hand” is unerring, or always right. The second part of the line suggests that the past is in the past, even the most important things will be buried “in the sand.” McKay grapples with complex concepts like fate and time in an extremely influential time period. I am certainly not well-versed in poetry and struggle to find the greater meaning behind each line. Though, I found this poem very interesting and relatable.
ReplyDeleteSt. Martin's Summer by Edith Jones (Sonnet Central)
DeleteAfter the summer's fierce and thirsty glare,
After the falling leaves and falling rain,
When harsh winds beat the fields of ripened grain
And autumn's pennons from the branches flare,
There comes a stilly season, soft and fair,
When clouds are lifted, winds are hushed again,
A phantom Summer hovering without pain
In the veiled radiance of the quiet air;
When, folding down the line of level seas,
A silver mist at noonday faintly broods,
And like becalméd ships the yellow trees
Stand islanded in windless solitudes,
Each leaf unstirred and parching for the breeze
That hides and lingers northward in the woods.
Reading these sonnets was almost like seeing how ideas change over time. In the earlier sonnets from the about the Shakespearean era, the subject of the poem is love until the metaphysical and modern poems where the range of topic expands. In addition it begins to follow the guidelines of the sonnet much less for example the "Shakespearean Sonnet" by R.S. Gwynn, the couplet in the end doesn't have the conclusion element the earlier ones have. A very much enjoyed the more recent ones because it was easier to read because I was more used to the English being used but even the "Pity this busy monster, manunkind" which layout looks confusing was quite fun to read. I never really considered the organization and calculated aspects of poetry especially with the rhyme pattern but it was interesting to see how much thought went into planning an auditorily pleasing poem.
ReplyDeleteA poem I found interesting was "Sunday Morning" by Louis MacNeice. This poem talks about Sunday mornings and how there isn’t enough time during the day, so take advantage of the time you do have. Sunday morning can also be looked at as a symbol for someone's entire life. Life doesn't last forever and everyone will die. The poem starts with describing an activity one may do on an average Sunday morning, “Down the road someone is practicing scales, The notes like little fishes vanish with a wink of tails.” It then goes on to say, “But listen, up the road, something gulps.” MacNeice is saying, enjoy your Sunday morning but it won't last forever. Death is represented by a church bell, “the church spire Opens its eight bells out, skulls’ mouths which will not tire To tell how there is no music or movement which secures Escape from the weekday time.” MacNeice makes the point that death is a constant threat and will happen to everyone. I liked this poem because of the message it provides, to not take life for granted and make the most of the time you do have on earth.
ReplyDelete"Sunday Morning" by Louis MacNeice
DeleteDown the road someone is practicing scales,
The notes like little fishes vanish with a wink of tails,
Man’s heart expands to tinker with his car
For this is Sunday morning, Fate’s great bazaar;
Regard these means as ends, concentrate on this Now,
And you may grow to music or drive beyond Hindhead anyhow,
Take corners on two wheels until you go so fast
That you can clutch a fringe or two of the windy past,
That you can abstract this day and make it to the week of time
A small eternity, a sonnet self-contained in rhyme.
But listen, up the road, something gulps, the church spire
Opens its eight bells out, skulls’ mouths which will not tire
To tell how there is no music or movement which secures
Escape from the weekday time. Which deadens and endures.
As I read through the multitude of sonnets given, I find my mind blurred time and time again by my thoughts on the first two. Not to disrespect any of the others- they have a beauty all their own to be sure- but the first two sonnets depicting the different translations was startling to see. From the same poem the two translations exist, and although they are similar in many ways, the clear superiority of the first to the second is immediately apparent from the first lines of the second. This becomes all the more surprising taking the fact into account that they both contain many of the same words.
ReplyDeleteThis drastic difference can be contributed immediately to the forms of the two poems. One follows the style of a traditional sonnet, while the other takes on a more literal translation of the original italian poem. The traditional sonnet mixes its words into weird orders so as to achieve the prose of a sonnet, sacrificing the clarity the other one has. Yet despite one being more clear than the other, the first one is still preferred because of the magical tone it takes on that only a sonnet can really create. The first is also more rewarding in the end because of its unique arrangement of words that makes a reader have to really think in order to decode and understand. The second is easy to understand, and can be comprehended by any who take the seconds to pursue through its lines.
Perhaps I give this thought biasly as I like a more complicated reading that offers gratification after some thought. Perhaps in today’s world that values ease over hard work, the opposite can be said- that the second is preferred to the first. But to be sure, to any writer or reader appreciative of the arts of literature, the first is the obvious winner in all.
"When I do count the clock that tells the time"
DeleteWhen I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls, all silver'd o'er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer's green all girded up in sheaves,
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard;
Then of thy beauty do I question make,
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake,
And die as fast as they see others grow;
And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence
Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.
William Shakespeare
DeleteI think one of the reasons sonnets are so important to literature is that they are a type of writing that uses many elements of music opposed to just rhythm. The Iambic Pentameter of the poems give it a 6/4 feel that can be counted as & 1 & 2 & 3 & 4 & 5 (& 6) with the #s stressed, the &s unstressed, and the (&6) being heard as a rest. This is the defining musical aspect of the style, but there are other things that come into light as they are read more and more.
ReplyDeleteWhile there are no notes or pitches attached to the syllables as there would be in a musical score, there are different ways in which you speak the lines depending on where they are in the poem. To clarify, these lines are said a little bit differently:
“There is soup.”
“There is soup?”
A question would be spoken with your voice trailing up, creating a tension that could be released with a line that spoke with your voice trailing down. Even if no questions arise, the rhyme scheme still holds the tightening and releasing of verbal tension. In an English sonnet, with a beginning pattern of abab’, the a’ lines might be written to end with a tentative tone that is satisfied by the b’ line with a more assertive tone. Sometimes a sonnet will end with a question to leave the speaker hanging, adding color to the poem and giving it more meaning. This is similar to how a song might not end on the tonic but perhaps a dominant cadence. Here is a sonnet from Sonnets!Sonnets!Sonnets! that I think displays some of these musical aspects:
Wisdom
By George Frederick Cameron
Wisdom immortal from immortal Jove
Shadows more beauty with her virgin brows
Than is between the virgin breasts of Love
Who makes at will and breaks her random vows,
And hath a name all earthly names above:
The noblest are her offspring; she controls
The time and seasons--yea, all things that are--
The heads and hands of men, their hearts and souls,
And all that moves upon our mother star,
And all that pauses 'twixt the peaceful poles.
Nor is she dark and distant, coy and cold--
But all in all to all who seek her shrine
In utter truth, like to that king of old
Who wooed and won--yet by no right divine.
With the abab’ linescheme, the a’ lines all end with anticipation for the b’ line, which when spoken, create the sensation of satisfaction. The form of the poem is a little bit different from the common rhyme schemes. The two quatrains sandwich a sestet, and similar to a piece of music, they contain different themes with different anticipations and resolutions that make the poem unique and meaningful.
The poem “America” by Claude Mckay really stood out to me. The speaker begins to tell his love of America, none the less of the violence of the times. In the line “ she feeds me bread of bitterness, /And sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth,” America is both sustaining the speaker but also harming him as well. The description of a tigers tooth reminds me of stripes of a tiger and relates to the stripes on the American flag. The feminization of America makes me think of ‘mother country’ and therefore the Statue of Liberty as a symbol. The speaker then begins to feel reluctance as he confess his love even though he is simultaneously being oppressed. This establishes internal conflict and tension, which is described in the line, “I love this cultured hell that tests my youth!” The exclamation point at the end of the line signifies his love. Overall the first quatrain is full of figurative language and syntax which illustrates the nature of the tense ambivalent relationship of “cultured hell”. The first part of this poem provides the perspective of the speaker as victimized. In the second quatrain, the speaker begins to use political language to describe defiance. The speaker talks about standing within America’s wall without a shred of malice which reflects back to the symbolism of a tiger and its claw. Previously the ‘tiger’ which is America has sunk its took into his neck, this vampiric perspective gives the idea of the life being sucked out of him. Now the speaker present the line “Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,” suggesting now America’s strength flows through him. Ending this quatrain, the speaker introduces the idea of his resistance is through sexuality and masculine virility not rheological registar. In the final quatrain the speaker becomes less visible, as the personalization of “I” immediately disappears as if the speaker has taken on a cosmic perspective attuned to “Time” itself. He predicts America will fall just like many great empires before it. The line, “Granite wonders….. Sinking into sand” emphasises America’s invaluable “treasures”. Here America’s “might” will not save them from “Time’s unerring hand”.The description of sand symbolizes the shifting sand and how like sand in an hourglass, it suggests circulating fortunes and ultimate end. The perspective of this final quatrain has shifts back to the speaker with “Darkly I gaze” and instill his own perspective darkness.
ReplyDeleteSonnets tell stories in a unique way. Since their structure reads like a poem, writers can take creative liberties with line breaks and rhyming in order to add more to a story. Shakespeare, who is recognized for his famous sonnets, wrote stories of love and romance. In “Sonnet 116” Shakespeare writes about how love never changes and never fails. Shakespeare writes about how love is a constant, “an ever-fixed mark”. He believes that love is the one thing that can stand the test of time, despite change and struggle. His ideas on love and romance are remembered hundreds years after his death, whether it be from his sonnets like this one or his stories like Romeo and Juliet and A Midsummer Nights Dream. Shakespeare’s words have continued to be influential as the years go by. In ““Lines Composed on April 23, 2016, on the 400th Anniversary of His Death” by Wilude Scabere, Scabere relays the impact Shakespeare’s words have had, calling it “lively and flowery” and saying his “language will not go away.” shakespeare told stories in a unique and beautiful way through his sonnets, using descriptive and thoughtful language. This is why his influence has not been dulled in the 400 years since his death. Students still read his stories in school, people are still reading his sonnets looking for inspiration, and his words have had countless influences on our culture, whether it be through literature, music, or movies. Shakespeare has had a lasting impact on the world and his words will continue to live on, hundreds of years after he has died.
ReplyDeleteSonnets are a very thoughtful and difficult type of poem to write in my opinion. It has a specific rhyme scheme depending on whether you do an Italian style or a Shakespearean style or any other style. For me, I do not like poetry to be limited to guidelines, of length or form. I think that poetry should be very free flowing and designed in the way which the writer wishes. For these specific sonnets, I really enjoyed Sonnet 292. I like how with each translation, it has a different flow and arguably a different meaning. Though I do not understand Italian, I am certain that the Italian version of this poem is the best. The English version, specifically version 1, is limited to a translation that strives to fit the rhyme scheme of an Italian sonnet. This is something that cannot be upheld with the original words of the poet. Thus, I feel that you lose some meaning of the words in the poem. However, I did like Translation 2 more. Despite the poem not rhyming, I feel it has more powerful words.
ReplyDeleteWhen getting into Millennial poems, I feel that they hold more value to people my age. They are more easily understood and related to than some poem written in old English. Specifically, “Lines Composed on April 23, 2016, on the 400th Anniversary of His Death” by Wilude Scabere, is an example of a poem I was able to relate to. In the sonnet, it is mentioned that the words of Shakespeare live on in ones head and occasionally pop out from time to time. I feel that this is true for not only Shakespeare but other historic writers like Socrates or Charles Dickens. However it is especially true for Shakespeare because of the degree of importance his works hold. For instance, Romeo and Juliet is a love story which is commonly cited by people going about their day with reference to a real life situation.
Compared to other forms of poetry, I am not a large fan of Sonnets. This being said, I do enjoy them, they just could be better.
Jackson Drake
DeleteI like how sonnets meanings come from how they are read out loud. I went back and reread the ones that were read out loud in class and it seems like they have entirely different meanings. Sonnets should be read like a story or like music, but they are more interesting and more artistic than an essay or a song. Sonnets create multiple feelings that stem from multiple images that are created by literary devices. It is also very intriguing how in translation a sonnet can gain a whole new meaning. The Italian sonnet that had two different translations could have been two separate sonnets. Mainly because of the different vocabulary, Italian has a lot more rhyming words than English does, so in translating an Italian sonnet, English poets had to change things around and make some translations that don’t exactly line up perfectly. This also caused English poets to develop their own form of sonnets that is different from the classic form. Then this form evolved further into metaphysical sonnets, which were made because the metaphysics thought that the sonnets were too perfect. Metaphysics covered more controversial topics. They draw on things from the past and tweaks them to fit their ideas.
ReplyDeleteSonnets are to poetry as short stories are to literature. They both contain a brief story of a sort, introducing a problem or idea, and commenting on the answer. The sonnet however, is more structured than a typically short story. Yet, within this structure, there is a large amount of variation, with different style choices corresponding to different desired outcomes. I find this to be quite interesting, the evolution of the format. Each different style of sonnet brings something else to the table. Petrarchan sonnets introduced the style, laying the groundwork for the future, and establishing the sonnet as conventionally a love poem by an adoring lover to an unattainable lady. Shakespearean sonnets developed their own format, introducing the couplet, and transitioning to a different structure more similar to that of three argument points followed by a concluding couplet. The attitudes of the time period influenced the subject matter of the sonnet of course, as seen through the Metaphysical poetry of the Baroque period, and the more modern subject matter of today, focusing on anything from religion to death, and even functioning as a sort of ode to Shakespearean sonnets through themselves, subjects far different from that original love poem. My favorite out of all the sonnets was “America” by Claude McKay. I found it to be not only beautifully written, but also emotional and reflective of the time period. It contained within it a sort of explanation for our country, as well as a criticism of it, but not a hatred for it. On the contrary, McKay expresses a love for the vicious animal that he describes America as, which serves as a most fitting description for the time.
ReplyDeleteI found the Italian poem to be particularly interesting as it had been translated from Italian. While I am not fluent in another language, I have been taking Spanish since sixth grade, and I would find it extremely difficult to translate such a poem. It brings a new level of appreciation for the poem as it was artistically written in two languages. To translate a poem would be to have extensive knowledge of both languages, so as to be able to find the best fitting word for both the rhythm and the rhyming of the poem. The most difficult part, I think, would be to translate it in such a way that it still rhymes while having roughly the same meaning. Having two english translations helps to show that it really is difficult to do. The first poem was able to have more rhythm and rhyme, yet the second poem was able to have a more accurate translation yet did not quite have the same flow to it. Neither of the translations, however, compared to the original Italian poem, as it was written as it was meant to be. The rhyming and rhythm of the original piece flows and simply based on hearing it, the rhyming also appears to be done well. It is also noteworthy that people found the poem to be good enough to translate. Translating the poem would allow a greater number of people to experience hearing or reading it, people who would not have been able to read it before.
ReplyDeleteI very much enjoyed the Petrarchan sonnet 292. It is dramatic, and melancholic rather than cynical. While I enjoy modern writing, it tends to be very cynical. In poetry, I find a message delivered with more metaphor and less blunt more appealing. Petrarch describes a girl who broke his heart with "the smile that flashed with the angelic rays." He can still view her with such beauty even after doing something horrible to him. He still has so much emotion, which he puts into his sonnets despite his relationship "are now a little dust, all feeling gone;" He can still be so descriptive without being simply filled with rage after such heartbreak. It resonates with all who have lost someone or something to whatever reason. I wish I understood Italian because I'm sure the first version has all the more meaning. Meaning is unfortunately lost in translation sometimes, as seen with the second translation of the sonnet. That sonnet is so much more dry and empty of the emotion the first conveys. The fact that I can feel so much for a sonnet's translation just shows how incredible both Petrarch and the translator are.
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ReplyDeleteI read God's Secretary first out of the countless sonnets above. It's title caught my eye. As I read it, I thought about what poetry is and what makes sonnets unique. It made me think that sonnets are like a song, they flow and ebb, rise and fall. There is a central idea, a climax, and an end. I can't choose between them being a painting, a story, and a song. They are like a mix of all three, and maybe more. God's Secretary in particular interested me. It is such a strange concept, an interesting metaphor. The first half is literal and sorrowful. The second half switches over, it makes your head spin and you begin to question what the piece is truly about. I read it over twice, absorbing the meaning and language. Language is used differently in sonnets because of the rhyming scheme and tempo. That's why sonnets usually have to be read more than once; to get the full affect. Sonnets, from my limited experience in creative writing, are a pain to write, but they are fun to read. Other poetry is beautiful in many ways, but most poetry isn't as fun to hear play out as sonnets, not as rhythmic.
ReplyDeleteIn my opinion sonnets have a power that is not better or worse than say a book, or regular poem - rather it has its unique qualities that make it very special. I feel like a comparison between sonnets and songs is easy to establish because certain emotions can be articulated through a song/sonnet that cant be conveyed by a mere text. The rhyme scheme of the sonnets above help the flow of the poem and give greater depth to the poem through the specific word choice. The rhyming of songs is what makes us like them, of course partially it is the lyrics and the voice of the artist but a-lot of our liking originated from the beat and rhythm. This rhyming is what makes sonnets special different than how a poem can follow any pattern it wants. My favorite poem above is "A Hero". The reason this poem stood out to me more than the rest is how the incorporation of history within the rhythm made me feel like was reading something extremely prophetic with great importance - once again only a sonnet can create such a feeling with its usage of beat and rhyme scheme
ReplyDelete"Sonnet 10" by John Donne
ReplyDeleteDeath be not proud, though some have calléd thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more, Death thou shalt die.
This sonnet captured my attention more than the others because the speaker personifies death throughout the poem, mentioning how powerless it is because it acts as a “short sleep.” It’s actually quite engrossing because he treats the concept of death as a person in his poem, illustrating it as how prideful it acts when in reality death is unworthy of fear. John Donne compares death to not only a rest, but a slave as well, “thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men.” The speaker implies that it relies upon earthly things for a way of living. Death does not impress him and is believed by him that it is just to transition people between the life here and the afterlife.
John Donne uses literary devices to enrich his texts and bring clarity to it. Apostrophes are used in the entire poem to directly address death as a human being. This is clearly displayed in the very first line of the poem. The apostrophes can be closely linked to personification and the metaphors presented in the written work. These three literary techniques joined together describe death as an arrogant person who thinks their role in life is much superior than it actually is.
"Shakespearean Sonnet" by R.S. Gwynn
ReplyDeleteWith a first line taken from the tv listings
A man is haunted by his father’s ghost.
Boy meets girl while feuding families fight.
A Scottish king is murdered by his host.
Two couples get lost on a summer night.
A hunchback murders all who block his way.
A ruler’s rivals plot against his life.
A fat man and a prince make rebels pay.
A noble Moor has doubts about his wife.
An English king decides to conquer France.
A duke learns that his best friend is a she.
A forest sets the scene for this romance.
An old man and his daughters disagree.
A Roman leader makes a big mistake.
A sexy queen is bitten by a snake.
This was the sonnet that snuck out to me and was a fun one to read. It gives perfect summaries of all the classic Shakespeare plays and puts them into a piece that sounds like its own story. The structure of a sonnet is to flow nicely and connect each line from the last, and love the idea of connecting separate storied from one writer into one piece that sounds like a whole new story. I also like how you can see it in somewhat of a timeline to see his growth as an author and how his flow of writing is. As much as it makes each story fit together nicely, it also allows each one to hold a line of its own to maintain its individuality and allow the story to stand on its own. Each story has very specific details that makes it easy to identify the story, even if you haven't read it, such as the last line, I am still able to identify it as the story of Antony and Cleopatra, even if I know very little about it. I like this poem because it seems very simple and just a summary on Shakespeare writing, but the more you read it and look at it, the more layers it reveals and the more you want to keep reading it.
Poetry has always confused me. I’ve never understood it’s importance, nor it’s reason for existence. However, it is difficult not to find a certain satisfaction in reading a well crafted sonnet. If it is written properly, the poem sounds almost musical as each word leaves the mouth of its reader. I say this primarily referring to Shakespirian sonnets, as the translation of the Petrarchan sonnets often miss the mark with an excess of slant rhymes. Having said this, Shakespirian sonnets can be as easy to understand as Italian at times. Perhaps the reason I dislike poetry so much is because I struggle to understand it. For example, in “Sonnet 116,” Shakespeare writes in the third quatrain, “Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks/Within his bending sickle's compass come;/Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,/But bears it out even to the edge of doom.” I had to read this a great many times to figure out that it simply means love cannot be destroyed by time. A simple message, but the delivery is indirect. Because of this, and the previously stated musical sound, I would argue that sonnets are more like song lyrics than pieces of literature. In some way, thinking of them as such makes them far more enjoyable to read, and allows me to open my mind more.
ReplyDeleteWhen reading the sonnets attached on the website, the only one I somewhat understood on the first read through was the one by America by Claude McKay. I believe this was due to my disposition already to American History and more specifically racism in America. As I read America, I was not confused by any line, and for each line I was able to think about a moment when the line was true. For example, the opening lines “Although she feeds me bread of bitterness, And sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth, Stealing my breath of life, I will confess” reminds me of the Montgomery Bus Boycotts. The African Americans in Alabama worked very hard for the white bosses, but they still found themselves stuck when regarding equality. And this ensued on to the busses, when African Americans, after their tiring day, they only wanted the smallest thing: to sit down. But even this was stripped away from them by the white man. African Americans were not even allowed to have a seat in the country which they called their home. As McKay shifts to the middle of the sonnet, he says “Giving me strength erect against her hate.” This reminds me of Civil Rights activists who took a stand to oppose racism. The more injustice that was done, the more they got fueled.
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